When You Are Alone in the Locker Room
by xxliveforever17xx
Summary: Sam's happy facade over the engagement of McNally and Callaghan immediately crumbles when he finds himself alone in the locker room. Rated M for frequent strong swearing.


_Hi everyone! So this episode will be having several oneshots, this the first one. Sam's reaction to the engagement was crazy, yet totally expected, if that makes any sense. But I wanted to get his reaction after the initial reaction, where he was all alone, because let's face it, crazy angry Sam is both fun and really sad to write._

_WARNING: This contains a lot of swearing and a lot of angst. The two go hand in hand nicely._

_As always, please review! I love reading all of your comments, they truly make my day. Thanks!_

* * *

><p>Sam had made it through the initial shock of the announcement.<p>

He had made it through the congratulations, going up to his Andy and shaking her hand as hard as he could in some crazy attempt to dislodge that diamond from her finger.

He had made it through the station, even stopping for a small, thirty second chit chat with Officer Granger who had just transferred from 17th.

He had made it through the door of the men's locker room, nodding to the last man left in the room who was exiting just as he was entering.

He had made it to his own locker, and was now standing in front of it.

Fuck. _Slam._

Fuck. _Bang._

Fuck. _Slam. Bang. Bang._

He hit the metal, pounding it with his fists as fast and furious as he could. He threw in some kicks, his legs seeming to have a mind of their own as they too pummeled the dull blue locker.

He couldn't fucking believe this. His Andy, _his_ McNally was fucking engaged to the damn poster boy of 15th. Callaghan was locking her down, locking her down _away_ from him, whisking her away to the far-off land of marriage and perfection and fluffy pink unicorns.

Damn him to hell. Damn that motherfucker to the ninth circle of hell that Dante had reserved for traitors. Technically, Callaghan wasn't a traitor, but technicalities hadn't ever been his strong suit, so why start now?

And he now was supposed to just, what, go about his day with that little idiotic grin everyone would be having on their faces in happiness to the news of the impending union of 15th's rookie sensation and golden boy detective? How was he supposed to ride with McNally for ten hours when that disgustingly shiny, glinting hunk of rock was latched onto her finger, the precious stone winking at him in the sunlight, taunting him with the fact that his McNally was no longer his?

Fuck. No, McNally had never been _his_ to begin with. She had always been Callaghan's, ever since day one. Technically, day four, but again, technicality had never been his strong suit.

Fuck. Fuck it all.

He realized he was literally seeing red, with tiny specks floating in front of his eyes. Black specks too. Ah, shit.

He hit the locker three more times, refusing to recognize the fact that his knuckles were beginning to ache and McNally would no doubt interrogate him as to why his hands were black and blue.

Oh. Oh gosh. Oh. Fuck.

Andy was getting married. Andy was engaged. Andy was getting married. Not to him. To Callaghan.

His fists hit the metal again. His lungs were somehow refusing to work, and he desperately tried to breathe in the oxygen that was currently evading him.

He thought that the hurt he felt from loving her was the worst it was going to be, and had resigned himself to the fact. But no, no, this was far, far worse. Loving McNally, girlfriend of Callaghan was painful. Loving McNally, _fiancee_ of Callaghan was excruciating.

He loved that woman so damn much. So, so damn much.

What had it been? A cupcake? A homemade souffle? An extravaganza with a eight piece orchestra and a tiny white pony with the ring around its neck?

Fuck that Callaghan.

He hit the locker once more, for the final time, wincing as the pain finally registered in his already pain maxed brain. He'd take the physical pain over this emotional shit any day.

He pulled himself together, taking deep breaths, holding onto the cool metal he had just beaten the crap out of. He needed to gain control again. He needed to get back the nonchalance, the easy going nature, zen nature...

"Hey buddy," Shaw said, and Sam saw him tentatively poke his head around the corner of the room.

"Fuck off, Oliver."

"Five more minutes?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." He didn't hear his friend leave, but he knew he had.

Zen nature. Calmness. Easy going.

McNally was engaged to Callaghan.

Fanfuckingtastic.


End file.
